


hooked on your dopamine

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Era, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, Letters, M/M, Uniform Kink, referenced death penalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 19:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The year is 1777, and two men sharing a tent are in love.





	hooked on your dopamine

**Author's Note:**

> this was for seasonofkink, the prompt being uniform kink. i suffered through looking @ revolutionary war uniforms honestly but it all was worth it because of the sweet, sweet lams angsty smut. 
> 
> enjoy!

This is terribly wrong and John is aware Alexander knows it. Their tent is small, and as they're pressed together, his guts twist with shame. It eats at him, and he doesn't think of Martha, the woman he married over her impregnation— no, he thinks about the punishment that'd come if anyone figured this out.

"Alexander," he says. The immigrant's hand is in the back of his neck and he notices how beautiful he is with their uniform. The breeches press against his thighs, and he wants to kiss him senselessly. "We could get killed for this."

"This war could get us killed, too," he replies without a smidge of hesitance, and it makes John's heart skip a beat. He wants him so bad. "Let's just... Laurens, I don't care what other people think. How wrong this might be. I want you."

John's hairs stand on end, and he kisses Alexander. It's not the first time kissing, but there's a heat he hasn't felt before as they move their lips and he rocks himself against the younger man. He's nineteen, so goddamn young, just out of a hellish place; but he's beautiful, brown locks falling into his shoulders and dark eyes staring right at him.

He starts unbuttoning Alexander's waistcoat with shaky fingers, and the immigrant calms him by caressing his cheek. He breathes through his nose and kisses him, once, twice. "You're breathtaking," he says.

Alexander's smile could split the entire world in half. He helps him out of his coat and he's left only with his waistcoat and his breeches on. "Can I... uh," he obviously doesn't know what he's doing, but it's okay, he doesn't too.

John helps himself out by unbuttoning his breeches and sliding them down with a bit of difficulty. His dick is already kind of hard, and Alexander looks up at him with raised eyebrows. "You can... suck it, if you want."

Alexander's eyes widen and gleam in the darkness of their tent, and John finds himself kissing Alexander passionately as his hand wraps up around his cock. He groans against the other man's lips, and he can't pretend he's a woman and that this isn't wrong when he's still wearing his uniform and the breeches hugging his thighs make him want to do unspeakable things.

When Alexanders pulls away, his eyes are twinkling. His knees fall into the ground, grass against his knees, and he prods at his cock with his tongue. John's body jerks; it feels so, so good. "A-Alex," he mumbles, attempting to remain quiet. The murmur of the camp has long died down but the idea of being caught with Alexander fills him with fear.

Alexander wraps his lips around the head of his cock, looking at him with pale blush in his cheeks and eyes clouded with lust. John doesn't know what to do, and his knees will give out at any second. He puts his hand on Alexander's hair and sighs as he licks at the underside hesitantly. "It's good, it feels — amazing."

He bites back a moan when his friend, his lover, whatever he is to him, puts more of him in his mouth. He swirls his tongue, staring John up, and then he bobs his head in one swift motion. It's amazing, and when he puts his hand around his cock and jerks him off along with the bobbing of his head, John knows he's lost.

His hips twitch and he thrusts into Alexander's mouth without meaning to, and the gagging noise he makes is divine. There's spit on his chin and it's going down into his waistcoat; he's plagued by thoughts of doing what he's fantasized so often about. It's a workaround over virginity of a woman, but men— oh, he'd do it with Alexander if he could.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when his gaze locks with the immigrant. He's licking the head and bobbing up and down, trying to unbutton his breeches at the same time. When he does, he pulls out his cock; veiny red and huge. He jerks himself off and John finds himself groaning as his friend hums and moans around his length.

When he starts sucking again, his knees buckle for a split second and his hips twitch, his body spasming as he climaxes. He sees white and he falls on the grass, lightheaded. He helps himself up with his elbows and looks at Alexander; his semen is dripping from his lip into his collarbones and then his waistcoat.

"You want— you want me to help you?" John's voice sounds hoarse, choked, and Alexander nods without doubting it for a second.

John spits into his hand and wraps his hand around Alexander's length; it's bigger than his, and as he helps to get him off, he cannot but notice how good he looks. Sweat covers his face, his hair is a mess, and he wants to rip his lower body clothing off and kiss and suck on his thighs.

Alexander can't keep as quiet as John, letting out soft whines and whimpers that threaten with making John hard again. "I want you — so bad, Laurens, _o-oh_ ," he hisses through gritted teeth the last word before he spills white all over John's hand.

John is about to try and get one of their handkerchieves to clean up when Alexander takes him by his wrist. "Huh?" Then, Alexander raises his hand towards his mouth, and his eyes darken with understanding. He licks at his hand with a sly smirk, like a little cat lapping at milk. He's clearly content when he pulls away, a white spot in his upper lip.

"I love how you look with our uniform," John mutters after a while. Alexander grins devilishly, and John knows he wants to plow him. "Especially with my seed and your spit on it."

Alexander hums. "D'you think someone will notice?"

John shakes his head reassuringly, although the idea scares him senseless. It's a dead giveaway for what they did tonight, and the thought of being executed for it is not comforting in the least. "We'll be fine, Alex. I..." the words feel heavy on his tongue but he continues, "I love you."

"I love you too," Alexander replies, as if there's nothing terrible about two men confessing their love— their romantic, sexual love— to eachother.

John presses a kiss on Alexander's forehead, his head spinning as he lays down and tries to close his eyes tight. He doesn't hear Alexander fall asleep by when he starts dozing off, and he hopes he'll sleep despite that.

Months later, John gets a letter from New York City, written by Alexander Hamilton. He joked about the length of his nose in it— he can't help but think about Alexander's cock after writing a reply.

He thinks of having it in his mouth, seeing Alexander in their uniform, looming over him and with a hand wrapped around his ponytail. He thinks and forgets of what the world would think; he tries to forget about Martha and the child— Frances— that's growing up and that he knows nothing about.

The marriage is nothing he cares about; his father is happy he has a wife, told his sister he's finally shown interest in a woman. He'll never know what the truth entails, or so he hopes.

He decides to go back and work on getting more slaves for the battallion. His family will never support him on his quest to free the slaves; it's their bussiness, after all. But he'll always do it, just as he's always loved men, whether consciously or not.

It's disgusting, unnatural; he knows. He lives with it. It's sodomy, pederasty, a sin; he knows. He lives with it.

As long as he has Alexander, he thinks he can live with it.


End file.
